Crossing the DMZ-demilitarized zone-and entering Yonchon, South Korea was their only hope of refuge. Captain Hayward waited at the base camp set up outside Yonchon for word of their mission. There would be no formal military action to rescue Mitch and his men should they fall under fire or capture. Their top-secret objective warranted no scrutiny from the press. The outside world wouldn't know of their victory or failure. It was the way of the Force Recon Marine. Knowing they'd completed their mission successfully equaled the only glory Mitch required. For fifteen years, the Marine Corps had been his life, his reason to live.
Holding the phenomenal length of woman in his arms, his world seemed to hunger for a new direction. Mitch glanced at the sleeping beauty. Her lips pursed in a slight pout as if begging for a kiss. Thick eyelashes fluttered for an instant and he sensed she dreamt. The sudden twitch of facial movements led him to believe a nightmare tormented her rest.
Before he could stop himself, he leaned in and whispered, “Rest, Allie. You're safe. I promise no one's going to harm you.” Not sure why he did it, he brushed a gentle kiss across her furrowed brow. The momentary touch caused his mouth to water and increased his desire to taste her lips to their fullest. The insatiable need jolted him upright, straightened his spine taut, and instinctively tightened his grip around his precious prize.
Oh, God, give me the strength to completemy mission and walk away to live another day as a Marine
Allie started to balk when he first lifted her into his arms. She was an independent woman and needed no assistance in walking or running for that matter. Exhaustion gripped her system overriding her normal strong-willed attitude. The ache in her legs and the sting of multiple cuts to the bottoms of her feet aided in her decision to accept his help. The pit of her stomach heated when he shifted her close and carried her like a damsel in distress. Out of the two men she'd dated, neither ever lifted her, much less treated her as delicately as this big, tough Marine.
This was a man she'd enjoy getting to know. She shivered, trying to prevent her mind from wandering in a non-professional direction. Apparently, saving her was his team's mission. Nothing more, nothing less. It wouldn't do to let her imagination create an incorrect scenario. But her hormones whipped along at a rapid pace, twisting her thoughts back to the romantic.
Was there a hint of an underlying warning in the way he snapped 'you done' at his fellow soldier? Nah, she decided. Even though she'd sensed an electric spark from her head to her toes the moment she laid eyes on him, she doubted he'd experienced the same. Camouflage didn't hide the healthy male specimen from her trained eye. Without the dark face paint, she bet chiseled features surrounded his sexy, bright blue eyes. The helmet hid the color of his hair making her itch to unravel that mystery by removing it. And if he smiled, she'd probably melt. Thank God he didn't smile.
The steel of his weapon lay between them digging into her side and hip. Though it bit into her comfort, she was grateful for the cold barrier it placed between them. Without it, she wasn't certain she wouldn't embarrass herself by snuggling tighter against this massive machine of a man. They'd walked for miles and yet he showed no signs of fatigue. His fortitude astounded her and kept her libido ramped on high, even though she tried desperately to tone it down. The rhythm of his gait lulled her to sleep in the sanctity of his arms.
For now, she was safe.
Deep sleep wasn't possible, but a catnap engulfed her system though she tried to fight the inevitable. Bumped and bruised tossed around wrapped in a burlap sack, hours dissipated, lost forever. Rain poured, mouth dried. Visions of a strange man's face danced behind her eyes. His macabre smile tormented her soul. Eyes filled with a history of torture, resentment, and hate gazed directly at her as if daring her to run. Tiny hands twisted a man's head, snapping his neck, sealing his fate. Her chest constricted. The gasp froze in her throat.
Would she be next?
Refusing to open her eyes for fear of seeing the short little man with the deadly skills, Allie stiffened against the cold hard steel.
A warm breath touched her ear. Whispered words of comfort unknotted the coil wrapped tight around her chest, allowing her to breathe with ease. Whether intentional or not, the cradle of his arms cuddled her closer, coaxing her system to relax. The realization she was no longer held captive emerged from her sleep-induced haze. The brush of masculine lips across her brow sealed the need to get to know this man better. He knew nothing of her nor she of him, but deep in her heart, the desire to learn and explore his attributes ignited.
If she thought too hard about it, she'd convince herself she suffered from some sort of hero worship syndrome. After all, he had rescued her. His sudden stop stirred her from the momentary haven of safety. Muffled noises sounded in the distance.
Allie peeked from beneath the rain poncho and whispered, “Where are we?"
His brilliant blues met hers and for a split second she thought he'd kiss her. Wrong. Instead, he communicated the need for silence with a shake of his head. Damn the romantic notion. This man was all business. She swallowed hard. Considering the situation, she needed to remain levelheaded and listen to these highly trained specialists if she wanted to survive. Instinctively, she followed his lead and lowered to her feet. Instant coldness replaced the warmth he'd given her causing her to internally shiver. The moment she had her balance, he readied his weapon and shifted into a combat stance, keeping her close behind. She placed each step carefully in the indention of his boot print in the mud.
Where he stepped, she stepped.
It took great inner strength to resist the temptation to kiss her. Those sleepy, dark brown eyes of hers relayed desire mixed with fear. And fear was an emotion he refused to touch. He'd already made a wrong move by kissing her brow. The salt of her skin left a flavor sealed to his lips he would never forget. The essence was pure Allie, an intelligent woman with an air of refined innocence.
Her file read like an encyclopedia of knowledge and achievements. The woman he protected maintained a high IQ, not to mention several master's degrees in science, math, art, and the one that worried him the most, nuclear physics. Did Kwan know that? If he did, there'd be no way he'd give up on such a prized commodity easily. Her value to the mercenary would triple. Kwan would torture her to extract every ounce of information he could, then either sell it, or her, or both to the highest bidder. Kwan knew no loyalty to any employer.
The low rumble of off-road vehicles seemed to hover within a half-mile radius. It surprised him they used quads for mobility. But given the tough terrain, it seemed a logical choice. For the last hour, the engines’ groans echoed through the trees from several different directions behind them. Mitch gave thanks for the rain. Though it slowed their return to the location where they'd hidden their boat, it also covered their tracks and hampered Kwan's progress. The night before, they'd traveled up river via a high-speed, silent, motorized inflatable boat. The hike up mountain through thick, wooded terrain hadn't fazed his well-trained Marines. One glance over his shoulder and he read the fatigue in her eyes. She looked lost in the oversized rain poncho. And surely her bare feet took a beating. Allie didn't have the physical stamina or hours of military training under her belt he did. This wore on her and seeing that touched a soft spot in his heart. She needed him. Mitch forced his gaze back to scanning the area. With the cover of the storm, he hoped they'd still be able to access the boat and the river without being seen.